A Normal Day
by Clair Shadows
Summary: A normal day waiting in the car and then a hunt. Set sometime in the boys childhood.


Sam stumbled over the cracked concrete unused to his now higher centre of gravity and unfamiliar with the local scenery. Though that, Sam mused, should be familiar. Across the road the only familiar landscape glistened darkly in the sun. Leaning out the passenger side window of the Impala Dean gives him a grin and spits onto the road splitting the difference between them. It sizzles on the black tar and fades away.

"100 degree's Sammy boy. Spit says so."

Sam crosses the road and shoves Dean before climbing into the back seat.

Dean's quiet for a moment before he asks,

"Wanna play chess?"

The board is old. It was second hand when Dad bought it at a flea market in Texas. It has been through six hauntings, one werewolf and those things down in New Orleans since then. One of the black pawns is missing, replaced by a Mickey D's Star Wars figure, and the third square of Ashwood is charred from where Dean threw it at that ghost in Mississippi.

Dean's three moves away from checkmate, not that Sam will admit it, when Dad returns.

"Pack it up boys we're leaving."

Sam pulls his shirt out in front of him to catch the pieces Dean sweeps off and shakes the pieces carefully into the board/carry case before latching it closed.

Their Dad drums his fingers on the steering wheel and starts the car before they're even properly on their sides of the car.

The sunny overbearing weather of Kansas had turned overcast and humid in the two hours Dad's been gone and Sam's shirt sticks to the seat as they drive off. Sam pulls it away and leans against the window more than happy to see the back of another nameless small town.

The rain starts before they even leave the towns borders.

The rain becomes heavier as they drive south and a strong easterly makes turning difficult. They both have their seatbelts on and Dean pats the car door absently his eyes on Dad. Sam watches Dad as well. He's driving grimly hands tense on the steering wheel and shows no sign of stopping or even slowing down. Dad had nearly swerved off the road when Sam had asked if maybe it would be better to wait the storm out. Dad had told him to shut his trap and Dean had given him a clip over the ear. They'd both been silent ever since.

Sam wasn't stupid though and neither was Dean they'd both seen the news clippings that had led Dad to the stupid town they were fleeing.

'Freak storm over Stanson Mansion lasts 14 days entire family missing'

'Family car run off road during sudden hailstorm family missing'

'Record rainfall two local farmers missing.'

The creature Dad had been hunting moved and struck during rain/storms/hail. It targeted families. Their Dad hadn't said a word about the hunt and the rain had only gotten heavier the further they'd gone.

It rains for four days. Dad keeps them on the road, keeps them moving. The roads flood if they stay still for too long and the Impala's not built for driving through anything larger than a puddle. After the first day Dad puts them on shifts, all of them taking their turn behind the wheel driving through the night. They stop in the small towns and truck stops and buy food and gas and listen to the local's talk about the weird weather and nod politely. They've learned to keep their mouths shut and the pace is making them all weary.

On the fifth day the rain becomes sleet and the already dangerous driving becomes extreme. Dean stops the car on a rise in the road as they've all learned to do and Sam helps him wake Dad. The three of them work fast getting the snow chains on the Impala and grabbing the winter gear from the back, however its not fast enough, there's an inch of ice turning the Impala a smoky grey when they're done and when they pile in all she can manage is a broken off cough.

Dean looks disbelieving and tries again, the car stutters, but doesn't start and Dad shoves open the passenger side door.

"Everyone out,"

Dad leads them around to the boot and pulls open the weapons stash.

Dad gives them each a shotgun and picks up the revolver. Rock salt shells go to Dean, the engraved and blessed shells go to Sam. Their father starts loading the blessed silver.

"Boys, this thing normally takes the form of someone you love, someone beautiful. Aim for the chest. Sam you stay in the car. Try and get her started there's no guarantee that gun's even work and I'd like another option. Dean stay close."

Sam watches the 'Soldiers' go bitterly and begins trying to heat up the engine. Using the useless battery operated heater they'd bought for emergencies.

Overhead the clouds darken to black and start to coalesce.

The storm grows fierce, odd lights making the icy ground look beautiful even as it becomes more dangerous. Their winter gear is good, but it can't keep everything out and Dean is already wet and tired. Dad stops them just before the rise almost ten feet from the Impala and Sam. He wants them to be able to get back if they need to, but far enough away to give Sam a chance. Dean looks back towards the car where Sam has gotten the tarp out and is fiddling with the engine pretending not to watch and nods, understanding without having to be told.

"Let's end this Bitch."

Sleet continues to pound down with bruising force. Sam can see Dad and Dean from where he's working on the Impala and watches as the first lighting bolt brings the woman they're fighting. Sam doesn't recognise her and while she's pretty she doesn't have the ethereal beauty that Sam has been expecting. So it's an uneasy surprise when he looks up towards his Dad and his brother. Dean has dropped his weapon and his stance is hunched, broken, and Dad. Dad is stoic, unmoving. The woman moves forward towards Dad her hand out imploring and Sam doesn't even think he just sights and fires.

The creature falls to its knees and Sam follows through with a shot to its head taking the recoil as he's been taught. The creature withers away to a dry husk that doesn't look human. And Sam crows as the sleet stops.

Dad claps Sam on the shoulder and says "Good Job." in a rough voice, but both Dad and Dean aren't meeting Sam's eyes.

"Who was she?" Sam asks and watches as Dad flinches.

"Nobody", he lies and Sam looks at Dean, wanting to know if he heard the lie, but Dean is scraping the ice off the windshield refusing to look.

"I did the job I deserve to know?" Sam demands.

Silence.

Sam shoves the shotgun into Dad's hands and climbs into the back. They both suck.

Dad promised them a motel room the next town in, news Sam was more than happy to hear, but Dean just grunted and hunched up on his side of the car pretending to sleep.

Sam wasn't stupid. He wouldn't wish for the wind and the rain, but this. This is not a victory and Sam just doesn't understand why.


End file.
